


The Walls Close In

by Miri1984



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Random Encounters, anders is in hiding, varric doesn't want to find him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the marketplace at Redcliffe, Varric and Cole have an encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Walls Close In

Redcliffe after the breach is closed is different to how it had been before — fewer mages for one thing, less fear in the air. He wonders if it is to do with said lack of mages or just the absence of the Tevinter ones. He knows the story of the Warden too well not to know how much magic has been used here, Solas had said the veil was thin even now, after the Venatori had been expelled and Alexius given to the mages so they could pick his brain. The Inquisitor and the elf are off with some merchants haggling over the price of plaidweave, although Varric would be happy if she’d stop insisting that everyone’s armour incorporate the stuff somewhere and silently wished the merchant to outbid her. Varric is sitting with Cole next to the big statue of the wolf, wondering what the world is coming to, whether Hawke is safe at Skyhold yet, wondering exactly how violently Cassandra is going to kill him when she finds out that she is the contact Varric had told Lavellan about, whether he should just cut his losses and head back to Kirkwall and spend the rest of his days holding up that stop sign for Aveline…

Cole is an easy kid to be around, most of the time, even with his creepy mind reading skills, and Varric has come to like him more than most of the other people who are lining up to join the inquisition. He usually stands just a little bit too close, but he isn’t a loomer and he doesn’t smell odd, like most humans he’d known so he lets it slide. It helps that he is absolutely lethal with those knives of his. Varric feels safe with him at his back — and if it occasionally reminds him of Isabela he isn’t going to give the pirate the satisfaction of telling her that.

Today the kid is in good spirits, only occasionally bursting into one of his litanies of someone else’s hurts and memories, and usually under his breath. If he can help, he does it from a distance, understanding that Lavellan doesn’t want him wondering far away from the rest of the group, especially if there is a chance of danger.

Time passes, and Varric scans the crowd, his eye lighting on someone across the marketplace and lingering. There is something familiar about the way the hooded figure moves, something that sets Varric’s teeth on edge, but he doesn’t expect Cole’s surprisingly strong fingers to grab his arm as the man edges closer to them.

“Blue,” Cole says. “Blue but dark, contained, stuck in darkness for so long, cannot get out, cannot tell time, time is meaningless save for the meals they bring him, he cannot trust, can’t be certain, nothing is certain in the dark.”

“Kid, you okay?”

“Trying. Trying to change, trying to make them listen, I can change it if they just listen, maybe if I show them how it hurt, maybe if I tell them what it was like, if I find the right words, if I do it right they have to listen why don’t they ever listen can’t they see won’t they hear…”

“Cole,” Varric says. The hooded man is closer now, and has slowed his steps. It is midday in spring, there is too much sun for the man to be so heavily covered, he must be sweltering under that cloak and Varric does _not want him to come any closer._

“The darkness is different now, black of denial, no one listens, have to make them listen and they only listen to death, death is the only thing that gets through and I have to get through or they’ll take me back, they’ll take him back into the dark where there is no time and he’ll be gone and they’ll do it to _her_ and she deserves the light and they all deserve the light and _we can do something to stop it if we can bear the price…”_

Varric’s blood goes cold as he tries to get through to Cole, who has sunk to his knees now, never stopping his relentless immersion in the other person’s feelings. “It’s the fade but it’s not the only sense comes from her touch trapped trapped in the tower in dead flesh in her love in the dark and I’ll never be free and oh maker it _hurts_ and _I need to get out!”_

“Cole!” Varric is desperate now, they’ve attracted the attention of some of the others in the marketplace and the man in the hood is so close now that Varric even thinks he catches that smell — of feathers and darktown and elfroot and _friendship lost._

“It’s all right,” the voice from under the hood is familiar but it’s _not Anders._

It’s Justice.

Strong, slim hands reach down and touch Cole’s sides, blue light flaring, magic dancing over the skin of the spirit-almost-a-person that Varric has started to think of as _his friend._

“You cannot help him, spirit of Compassion. But it matters that you try.”

Cole looks up into the blue eyes of the man — no — the spirit in front of him. Varric won’t ask what’s happening. Won’t ask whether Hawke knows he’s here, won’t even ask why he’s here and not in hiding like he should be, far away from people he can hurt far away from Varric who he is _still hurting._  

“How can you be in there?” Cole asks, eyes wide, voice wondering as he stares up into the face of a man Varric had truly wanted never to see again. “It hurts so much. He hurts so much. How can you stand it?”

Justice shakes his head. “For a long time it _was_ too much,” he says. 

“I can help him forget,” Cole says, eagerly now, leaning forward. “I do that now. I help people. I take away the hurt, I can do it for him and you can be free.”

“No,” Justice’s lips curl in a small smile. “No sometimes it is worse, to forget.”

“But if he forgets, he will be happy, he’ll be…”

“He won’t be himself any longer, spirit of Compassion. And all that he has done will mean nothing to him. You are trying to help, but I can take care of him, for now.”

Cole takes that in. It’s fascinating to Varric, to watch him learn, see him process. He imagines it must be what it’s like to have children. “She asked you to,” Cole says finally, with conviction and a small smile. “She loves you both. She wants you both to be happy, but she doesn’t know how much it hurts you. I don’t know if it will work, for _you_ but I can…?”

Justice helps Cole to his feet. “No,” Justice says. “We still have work to do, my friend. But again, it means a lot that you try. It means a lot to him. And to us.”

Cole nods, and the blue fades a little from Justice’s eyes, and Varric catches a glimpse of the pain that Cole must have been feeling. Varric raises his hands.

“I didn’t see you,” he says. “You were never here.”

Anders’ voice is ragged, hoarse, nothing like the calm tones of the spirit from moments before. “Thank you, Varric. Hawke will be at Skyhold by now. You should get back there. She can help you, I’m afraid… I can’t.”

Varric opens his mouth to say something, but Anders… Justice turns from them before he can say any of the words that might have come to mind. Perhaps it is for the best.

He walks away, with steps that look like a much older man’s. Varric wonders as he goes how he looks, these days, when he walks. Wonders if he looks that old, that fragile. 

“You knew him,” Cole says.

“Yeah, kid,” Varric replies, still watching that back, wondering.

Cole tilts his head in that way he has, hiding his face beneath that ridiculous hat.

“Jokes, jokes between friends bitter with old loss and disappointment, laughter to cover tears and horror, a common friend and a desperate purpose. How can he do that? You don’t know, you could never know because you never sat in the dark, alone, forever, dead, they always remembered you even when you were buried you were alive, a brother betrayed, you still had friends and there was always a way out… Varric Tethras, child of the stone free of the stone but the stone sucks _him_ in and stops him from breathing and presses in whenever he closes his eyes.”

Varric swallows. Anders is gone, now, out of sight up the hill towards the gates of Redcliffe. Off into the wilderness, or back to whatever bolt hole Hawke has set up for him. She would have made sure he was safe, would have made sure he had supplies, but Varric guesses he needs to come out into the light occasionally. 

It figures.

“Best you don’t mention this to the others, kid,” he says softly.

“Did he say that Hawke was at Skyhold?” Cole says, suddenly bright in that way he has, switching from one mood to another like a candle being lit and snuffed out over and over again.

Like magic.

“Yes. I invited her. She should be there by now.”

“We should go back,” Cole says. “I know you miss her. She’s your friend.”

Solas and Lavellan emerge, finally, from the merchant, Ceindrech laughing at something the elf has said, her head thrown back, clutching a package in her arms. The elf, next to her, finds Varric’s eyes and nods, even as one of his hands rests lightly on Ceindrech’s waist. They don’t often show that affection, but Varric has been watching, and he wonders, for the first time, if this time he’ll ever bother to write it down.

He wonders if he’ll ever get time, or the opportunity.

He wonders if he’ll ever feel the need.

“Come on kid,” he says to Cole. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
